


Ever Since I Left the City

by headfirstfrhalos



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Crack and Angst, M/M, also god kinkshames, and tyler thats angry bc his emo music is from drake, anyways yes this is a Super Serious and Angsty Fic™, do people still care about hotline bling, ft. jealous tyler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5445425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headfirstfrhalos/pseuds/headfirstfrhalos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler never thought he'd ever relate to a Drake song. This is why Josh maybe-probably-definitely should spend some more time with him. "Some" meaning "all".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever Since I Left the City

**Author's Note:**

> the shit i do instead of working on my real fics

Tyler has never felt this emo in his entire life. Josh was out again, doing buttfuck-whatever he did with his friends, and it was late, far later than what was normal for Josh. He needed to sleep like seventeen hours a day, and if he's up any later than this Tyler will wake up to an empty coffee pot and a fridge completely void of Red Bull the next morning. Josh himself would be conked out on the sofa, a perfect waste of caffeine. No way. Also, Josh was Tyler's. _  
_

He debated calling him. Josh would mock him for being "clingy". Tyler was not clingy, he was devoted. And totally in love. That's too obvious to hide. But the idea of being called so didn't really appeal to him. Tyler sank further into the sofa, the super-squishy cushions completely engulfing his butt. He didn't need Josh. This sofa could eat his ass just as well, and it wouldn't run off with stupid friends and drink all the caffeinated beverages. It wasn't as hot though. 

He reached for the little radio on the coffee table. Like his wounded ego, it was beat up and worn out and probably about to implode if one more button was pushed. He turned it on. 

" _You used to call me on my cell phone..."_

Oh hell no. 

He turned the dial all the way to the left. No Drake. No way.

" _Late night when you need my love..."_ his deep voice persisted.

The same song? Ugh. Tyler turned the dial all the way to the right. They couldn't play the same song on three different channels, right?

" _You used to-"_

Apparently they could.

Tyler grimaced and went through every station. They were  _all_ playing that stupid song, _all_ at the same time. Not a single commercial. Not a single hint of static. What the hell. 

He shook the thing, wondering if it was just jammed on one station somehow. He muted, then unmuted it, then took out and replaced its batteries, and finally switched to AM. Shitty talkshows about appliances or whatever were a thousand times better than Drake. No such luck. Even the Evangelical sermon station was playing it. Unlike the sermons, Tyler couldn't fucking believe it. 

"I'm dead, aren't I?" he asked no one in particular, "I'm dead and I'm in hell and that's why Josh is gone and all there is is Drake."

He placed the radio on the seat beside him and covered his face with his hands. It would have made more sense for him to cover his ears, but it didn't look as serious and dramatic as covering the front. 

"But what did I do to deserve this?" he asked no one again.

"Because you call Josh daddy," God said as he descended from heaven, holy light shining on Tyler's brow.

"True," he whispered reverently.

"So shut up," He said, returning to heaven and leaving Tyler filled with sin once more. 

Hotline Bling was still playing. Tyler didn't fight it, he just sat back and let Drake's voice wash over him like a herd of hip-hop horses. 

_"Ever since I left the city you... Got a reputation for yourself now..."_

Josh was a really friendly guy. He couldn't help but try and be friends with pretty much everyone he met. That was a good thing.

_"Everybody knows and I feel left out."_

Everyone knew Josh. More importantly, everyone  _liked_ Josh. They wanted to talk to him. They wanted to hang out with him. 

_"Girl, you got me down, you got me stressed out."_

He snorted at 'stressed out', then went right back to worrying. Tyler had always been afraid of someone who was better for Josh than he was. It wasn't exactly a very hard thing to be. But even though he didnt deserve him, he wanted to keep him for himself anyways, and he'd feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise every time he made that special smile at someone who wasn't him. 

_"Cause ever since I left the city, you stared wearing less and going' out more."_

Josh wasn't ashamed of his body. He'd spend his whole life shirtless if he could. There was a tiny (no, a big) part of Tyler that didn't want him to be like that around other people. He's seen Josh naked, he's touched and kissed every bit of him, and to see him running around bare with a body that seemed so private always felt a little embarrassing for Tyler. His stupidly low pants would barely cover purple bruises and red bites and half of Tyler wants the world to see then so they all know that Josh is his and the other half never wants them to even think they exist because that little bubble of secrecy they had in those hickeys would pop. 

_"Glasses of champagne out on the dance floor, hanging' with some girls I've never seen before."_

Neither of them were exactly the life of the party. But Josh could definitely go with it a lot better than Tyler could. It seemed so natural for him, drinking and dancing and casting a wide net. Tyler was shit at group conversations. He'd prefer investing in a few people at a time, and Josh was the one. He didn't want him to slip away to a thousand other people.

That infamous chorus began. Tyler bit his lip and internally bashed himself for thinking that Josh would really leave him. He had eaten his ass. You can't eat someone's ass if you don't plan on sticking around. It's a commitment.

Tyler glanced at his phone again. 11:56. Josh still wasn't back. God, where was he? Why couldn't he just call him?

He made an unhappy little noise and curled up on the sofa. His increased density made him sink further into the seat, the radio beginning to lean. He hoped the sofa would completely absorb him and he'd become the couch, constantly touching people's asses and occasionally getting farted on. 

"Fucking Drake. Fucking phones and Josh with his fucking abs that make people thirsty why can't they leave us alone," he mumbled to himself. 

_"These days, all I do is wonder if you bendin' over backwards for someone else, wonder if you're rollin' up a backwoods for someone else, doing things I taught you, gettin' nasty for someone else, you don't need no one else, you don't need nobody else, no."_

They weren't really dating. Or at least they didn't call themselves that. A couple under everything but the name. Technically Tyler could fuck someone else and it wouldn't be a shit thing to do. Technically _Josh_ could fuck someone else and it wouldn't be a shit thing to do. Doesn't mean that the thought doesn't terrify him, though. Josh was... his, and he didn't want to let him go. 

The music continued, but Tyler ignored it. The idea of Josh kissing someone else, being someone else's best friend,  _loving_ someone else made him sick. He hated that he was like this though. It wasn't Josh's or any of his friends' faults. It was all Tyler and his possessive ass. 

He hugged his knees. Hotline Bling started again. This was all Drake's fault, making him feel things. He just wanted to have dinner (dick) and go to sleep, but here he is, about to cry in the middle of the night because he's afraid that Josh is going to leave him for some blonde chick (or dude) with a better ass than him (impossible). 

A tear did manage to slip out. Before he knew it, he was weeping uncontrollably like a toddler pissing their pants. He reached for his phone. He couldn't do this. 

"Hello?" Josh answered after a few moments.

"You're not fucking them, right?!" he hiccuped.

"What the fu-"

"I'm not clingy."

"... I know you're not. Wait. Are... are you listening to Drake?"

A loud burst of sobs confirmed it. 

"I go away for two hours and you're already ready for the sweet embrace of death. How."

Tyler sniffled. 

"C-can I just. Suck your dick."

"Will that calm you down?

"Yes," he whispered.

"It's a deal."

* * *

Tyler was a-ok afterwards bc dick solves everything.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you know what this is the best thing i have ever made fuck off yall


End file.
